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Page 150
were not operating near the keep and were based outside her lands. Why should she fear trouble so close to her stronghold? She was well-beloved of her people and certainly needed no protection when she was among them. Ian wished now that he had not had the last three men killed out of hand. He should have questioned them first. Were they part of the larger band? Were they riding to rejoin the main group? Had their original purpose been to take Alinor?
As he thought her name, an inner trembling seized Ian. God, God, he thought, what am I to do? He had believed that when he was assured of her willingness to marry him, he would be free of the doubts and desires that tormented him. Instead they grew worse. Anything to do with Alinor pushed him right beyond reason. In his whole life, nothing had driven him berserk before, and he had fought some very ugly battles. How could he have been so mad as to have overlooked the need to question those men? Possibly with the right persuasion they could have led him directly to the outlaws' camp.
Even now, Ian realized, while his brain berated him for the lost opportunity, his blood boiled anew. If the men had been restored to life, he knew he would kill them again. They had looked at Alinor as if she were a common woman. One had even suggested ''using" her. The huntsman waiting in the brush to see which way they would go had heard and faithfully reported. Ian looked down at his hands. He had crushed the bar of soap he was holding to pulpy fragments. It was bad enough to fly out at others, but he could no longer maintain his control in Alinor's presence. It seemed as if he could hardly exchange a word with her without either offending her or quarreling with her. Another scene like the one just past and she would refuse him.
Ian erupted from the tub and bellowed for Geoffrey. "Dry me," he said when the boy came running, "gently on the back. I am still sore. When you are done, find

 
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